Until the End (Josh x OC)
by Beautiful-Monster99
Summary: Gracie Lowe grew up with the Washington family. She had gravitated more towards Joshua since a young age;they understood each other in a way no one else could. It has been three years since they had last seen each other when Gracie decides to visit her dear friends for one last summer. But things are different;her family is now strangers and Josh isn't n she fix whats broke?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: So, just a quick warning before we get this story started.**_

 ** _This story contains_** **violence, gore, sexual content,** ** _and_** **strong language.**

 ** _By reading this, you'll be exposed to in-depth insights of_** **abuse, mental illness, and their effects on the mind** **.**

 ** _The story really isn't that much different visual wise from the game, the only major differences would be that I dive down into mental disabilities more so than what the game does. Don't worry, there will be plenty of Josh lovin' though ;)_**

 ** _Hope you enjoy!_**

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 _ **:Summary**_ :

 ** _Gracie Lowe had always been close to the Washington children. When Josh's mental state had begun to deteriorate, she stayed by his side. They both helped each other with their demons up until the day her parents divorced and she moved away with her mother. Two years later Gracie comes back, however her old friends have all changed, and Josh is nothing more than a stranger. Will she be able to mend the broken friendships of the past, or has everything they loved been lost to the Mountains? [JoshxOC]_**

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There are things in life you just simply cannot change. Try as you might to do so, you cannot change what has happened and the past will always be there to haunt you.

The past...

The past is such a beautiful thing.

When reminiscing of past events, it can be quite joyful. You can travel back to the time you and your grandmother made homemade cookies; you can look back on the time you scraped your knee and your parents were there to kiss it better; you could also remember a certain moment shared with friends: laughing at some dumb joke, playing a random game you had created, causing mischievous trouble for some poor unfortunate soul, and all-in-all just having a wonderful time in the presence of the other.

The past is also very dark.

It can show you things you desperately wanted to never see again. You can remember the things you could and wished you lived without. The past is a dangerous mistress that takes great pleasure in wrapping her icy claws around your very soul and squeezing ever so slowly. She squeezes and squeezes and squeezes until you finally can stand no more and you can do nothing but beg for release from the terrible pain.

This is a very dangerous place to be, and it is exactly where this evil mistress wants you.

Once you get to this point, there is almost no hope of returning. The only thing you can truly rely on to save you from damnation is the very thing that is slowly dragging you to your destruction; the memories. The happy memories that were, and the happy memories that could be.

Yes, the past is a beautiful thing. A very beautiful, wonderful, _deadly_ thing.

Everyone has their fair share of the darker and lighter past events, and everyone must eventually battle with their little inner demons in order to keep on living for more memories.

Many people can make it. Many have that one special person who gives them enough good memories to keep going.

Just as many don't.

This is why Gracie Lowe finds herself standing before the roots of the cursed mountains once more; standing before the mountain that carefully hides her evil mistress within its many shadows and crevasses as she waits patiently to snatch up Gracie's fragile soul the first chance she gets.

If she could help it, Gracie would have never set foot on this tainted soil ever again. If it wasn't for him, she would have never set her dark brown gaze upon the damned mountains for as long as she lived.

Her heart thundered within her ears like a thousand war drums being pounded on at once and her feet twitched desperately for the slightest opportunity to bolt. Her large eyes gawked at the ever-looming, intimidating mountains that held so much sorrow and pain and malice and her fingers picked at the zipper of her olive-green parka nervously. She could sense the evil here; she could feel the beady, malicious eyes of a thousand creatures just daring her to take another step further into the woods that had once held so much comfort for her. Even so, she held her ground. In that moment, she was a planted stone with a quivering heart.

She would damn herself if she ran from a mountain. She would hate herself forever if she turned into a cowering, kicked dog with its tail between its legs. She would not turn around and catch the next bus back into town when there was so much at stake.

She _could not_ run. She _would not_ run _. He needs her._

"Well, you coming or not?"

Gracie felt her heart leap into her throat and she flinched away from the sudden voice with a horror-stricken gasp of breath. " _Jesus_ , Sam!" Gracie wheezed when she managed to gather up enough air into her lungs to do so. She put a hand, lightly kissed by the rays of the previous summer's sun, to her racing heart and with the other held up a finger. "Hold on, let me make sure my heart's still beating. _God,_ don't do that to me!"

Sam tried and failed at covering a laugh behind her own hand. "Someone's a bit jumpy," the blonde joked.

That was an understatement. Gracie hadn't felt this uneasy in years, and she was fairly certain her heart would leap from her throat if a branch was to suddenly fell from a tree or something of the like.

Gracie's glasses had fallen in the snow due to her startle. Sam, being the caring friend she was, leaned down and plucked them from the frozen ground. She handed them to Gracie, a not-so-apologetic smile gracing her lips as she did so.

Gracie went to say something, something along the lines of Sam being a jerk, but the words caught in her throat so suddenly it nearly choked her. Sam was smiling, her _eyes_ were smiling, and yet Gracie could clearly see something else in those blue orbs; it was a dark spark of worry, nearly desperate and _distressed_ in a way, and it was glaring back at Gracie in such a way that it shocked her to her very core.

Samantha Gibbings was a very warm and caring individual. She was so carefree with her daily goings, so calm and level-headed, and she always seemed to be the one of the group who was able to handle any given situation with an ease that could only be envied. She seemed to never get touched by the hands of panic or anxiety in any way, and Gracie admired her for that. However, Sam is still only human, and no human can go on forever without a few good cries in their lifetime. Gracie had been there for many of those days when Sam needed a shoulder to cry on, but the look Sam had now was like no other she had ever seen in her blonde friend's eyes. This wasn't just the look of stress or sadness or even anger; this was the look of _fear_.

Gracie understood the reason behind the fear, and yet that didn't make the look any less unsettling in her strong-willed best friend. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to assess the clear anxiety that radiated from Sam and blossomed within her own self and still continue on, so she didn't assess it. She took back her glasses and returned a smile that no doubt mirrored Sam's down to the very last dark glint.

As she slid the glasses back into place upon the bridge of her nose, Sam's somewhat awkward and unease voice floated out into the open, silent air. "It's, uh, pretty weird being back, huh?" she asked, her gaze glued to the looming mass of the giant mountain before them.

Gracie followed her friend's line of sight, slowly gliding up the dangerously large rocky side with accusation and regret. She answered with a small, "yeah," into the cold breeze, her mind floating back to a life-changing moment in her life she never witnessed.

A year ago today, a prank had taken place upon this very mountain. It was a very stupid and heartless prank, and it resulted in the death of two of the greatest girls Sam and Gracie had ever had the pleasure of knowing; Hannah and Beth Washington.

It was an idiotic and inconsiderate joke that wasn't meant to hurt anyone; Sam knew that. She also knew that it _would_ hurt someone.

And yet, she hadn't prevented it from happening; deciding instead to not get involved at all. That had proved to be the absolute worst decision she had ever made. Samantha Gibbings hid on the sidelines that night, and she would regret it for the rest of her life. Regretting is all anyone _can_ do in a situation like this. Her guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders like some unseen force had strapped digging bricks to her back.

Through her own scorching pain, Sam could see just how hard it was on Gracie as well. Even if she wasn't there that night like Sam was, the impact on Gracie had been devastating.

Gracie had been raised alongside the Washington children since the very day they were born, and they had been inseparable since the day they could walk. It grew to the point their parents would call them siblings when out in public. The Lowe's and Washington's were closer than most any blood families of today, and on some levels they still were. Gracie's mother, Emma, and Mrs. Washington, Melinda, had been college friends and stayed so afterwards. It was through Bob – a young up-and-coming film producer that had married Melinda – that Gracie's mother met Allan Lowe; a close friend of Bob's and later the husband to Emma and father to Gracie.

Sam had never had siblings, and although she has had many friends over the years, she had never had a close sibling-like bond with any of them. She could not even begin to imagine the pain Gracie must have felt when discovering Hannah and Beth were missing, especially when she was already dealing with angry legal battles in result of her parent's sudden divorce from the previous year.

Sam couldn't help but to realize just how broken everything had seemed lately. She couldn't have wished for a better childhood; especially with the amazing friends she shared it with. And yet, the sturdy bridges and strong ties that had taken years to create were suddenly being destroyed within a matter of a mere three years. Gracie's moving away with her mother seemed to be the thing that set everything off balance; the incident with Hannah and Beth had dislodged everything.

Even so, Sam knew she shouldn't be upset; at least, not this weekend. Hannah's and Beth's older brother Josh didn't want everyone to be sad. He knew just as well as everyone else that what happened was only a prank and that no one meant anything to happen to the twin girls. It took a while – he hadn't really spoken to anyone since it happened – but he seemed like he was finally able to forgive. He could never forget, but at least he was finally taking the steps towards mending the shattered friendships – at least to the point of leaving on good terms.

After all, Josh hadn't invited the entire group back out to the Washington Lodge on the twin's anniversary for nothing. In the back of their minds, both Gracie and Sam knew that this weekend of healing would most likely not work the way Josh had planned. The entire group had more or less disintegrated with the loss of the sisters; hardly anyone had talked to each other the first few months that followed, and they still hadn't fully began talking a year later.

Gracie and Sam had known this, yet still they decided to come back. Gracie hadn't seen anyone for two years and she knew that the relationships she shared would never be the same, and she was scared to see what had become of them. But she knew she had to come. She and everyone else had been nothing but selfish these past years. This weekend was a time to not be selfish; a time to pay respects for Hannah and Beth and of friendships long lost. Josh had invited them back to the Lodge to make amends and settle on good terms, and also to celebrate his sister's short lives.

Hannah and Beth should be remembered in the light that they lived, not the darkness of their end. No one should be selfish on this weekend, no matter of their own inner turmoil.

Sam forced a smile on her face and it almost hurt her to do so. She gave Gracie a gentle nudge with her elbow and raised an eyebrow. "Well, are we just gonna stand here and look at the mountain, or are we actually gonna go up there and have a good time?"

Gracie smiled at her friend, desperately hoping it didn't look as strained as it had felt, and she nodded as she readjusted her glasses. "Yeah, let's get going before Matt and Chris eat all the good junk food." Both young women chuckled at this as they began to trudge through the ankle-high mounds of snow up the old, overgrown path.

The trek up the path was not near as long as Gracie had remembered it to be, but it was still full of the memories she had collected over the years. After climbing over the broken gate – and a small scare with Sam almost falling over it – it didn't take long for the two women to reach the cable car station. It wasn't a very big building; it was more of a rusty shack than anything else and it held only two rooms, both of which were locked. Sam shimmied her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. Her brow scrunched noticeably as she glared at the dim screen, and Gracie took notice. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's Chris," Sam said while looking over the text once more. "He said he got here fifteen minutes ago, but I don't see him."

"You think he's already up at the Lodge?"

Sam shook her head. "I've never known Chris to leave his bag behind," she gestured with a nod to a lone backpack sitting on an ice-covered bench. The situation was odd, but Gracie didn't feel it was time to panic just yet. Sam, however, couldn't help but show a glint of worry as she called out, "Chris?You here? You're not _in_ the bag, are you?"

"Don't think too much of it," Gracie told Sam gently with a light shrug. "He probably just found his long lost squirrel family and followed them back to their colony or something." Sam shot her friend an odd look, then laughed at the absurd thought.

"Well," Sam started, her infamous smirk gracing her lips, "be that as it may, we should still go look for him."

"I don't know, you know how nuts Chris can get. Maybe he belongs with the squirrels."

"You belong with the squirrels, Gracie."

"Really? I thought of myself as more of a chipmunk kind of girl."

Sam rolled her eyes and let out an over exaggerated groan. " _You're ridiculous!_ "

Gracie threw up her hands in mock-surrender and managed to say through her giggling, "okay, okay! I'll go find our lost King of the Squirrels."

"Don't you think you're giving him just a bit more credit then you should? A jester, maybe, but the king?" Gracie snorted.

Gracie began her search for her blonde male friend with passing glances through the trees. She wasn't really going all out in her search; after all, Chris was a big boy, he could get along himself just fine. In the back of her mind, a part of her also wasn't quite ready to see him just yet. She hadn't talked to him for months, and she had seen him even less and that was only through a computer monitor. She couldn't help but worry of the daunting fact that her dear friend could have changed.

All of her friends had changed, she knew. Even Sam had changed in some ways, and her and Gracie had stayed in close contact the entire time. How had Chris changed? How had they all changed? How had Josh changed?

Gracie suddenly found herself distracted from her dreadful thoughts by a far-off screech of metal against metal. She turned her attention to the distant oncoming cable car - which wasn't even halfway down the mountain yet – as it swayed and shook in the breeze and she began wondering when the last time that death trap had been used was. Momentarily forgetting about her search, she switched directions and instead made her way to the edge of the cliff that bordered the clearing.

The cliff was large and deep, and it was so full of dark pine trees that Gracie could hardly see the blanket of fallen snow through the thick green needles. Within one of the few splotches of land that was clear of any trees, she spotted an elk cow grazing on the last blades of grass that hadn't succumbed to the cold as of yet. Gracie couldn't fight her beaming grin as the far-off howling of a pack of wolves echoed through the valley and resonated within her very core. She always had adored nature.

Out of all of the animals she loved, wolves had always been her very favorite. The way they gracefully float through the forest quieter than shadows intrigued her; their beautiful and intelligent ways of hunting astonished her; the way they stuck together and protected each other as a family made her admire and somewhat envy them. This was one of the many reasons she loved coming to the Washington Lodge; Pinewood Mountains were one of the last few places with natural, wild wolves running about. And every now and then, if she were particularly lucky, she would get the spectacular opportunity to spot them.

Her love of nature was one of the many things she had in common with Sam and was part of the reason why they got along so well. Sam loved nature just as much as Gracie. The only difference between the two was the fact that Sam was raised deep within the city and didn't know much about nature past the initial look of gorgeous flowers and beautiful animals. Other than that, Sam and Gracie's enjoyment of the great outdoors was the same. Although, Sam's veganism was where Gracie would have to draw the line.

Gracie's long lashes fluttered shut and she allowed the biting wind to nip her flushed skin, sending pleasant shivers to race down her spine. The icy breeze caused the strands of dark brown locks that had gone astray from her single bohemian braid to lazily whip around the shell of her ears and the side of her face. Her mind easily left the world around her and, just for a second, she was flying. She took a deep breath in and the musky-yet-clean smell of dirt, pine, and water infiltrated her senses with a familiar nostalgia. The frigid bitterness of the winter wind took her away and brought her to young memories of snowball fights and sleigh rides and hunting trips.

She missed this; she missed being able to go out and simply enjoy nature alongside Josh and Sam. She missed the hunting and the camping trips she would often take with either her father or Josh, or sometimes even Chris. She missed fishing and spending time with Josh and Mike and Matt. Hell, she even missed those dreaded shopping trips she had with the girls.

She missed everything. She missed her life. She missed her friends. She missed _him_.

It was hard to imagine that only two years had passed since she had moved away from all of this. It was always hard to imagine things when you so desperately wished they hadn't of happened in the first place. She squeezed her eyes tighter, her brow scrunching as her mind raced with the desperate attempt at pretending that she was back four years in time; back when everything made sense.

It was the winter her and her friends went camping with Josh's parents for a weekend that she remembered most clearly in that moment. They were young then, and their friendship had been untainted for years. It seemed as though nothing could separate them; they were invincible to the hardships of the world and untouched by sadness. Well, most of them were. She remembered that was the first time Matt had gone fishing and he had fallen through the ice in a small creek. They ended up having to leave early because he had gotten sick from the cold. The corners of Gracie's lips twitched upward; Matt still loved to fish, even after that.

"Whoa," she heard Sam say somewhere off to her left. Gracie turned to look and quickly saw the familiar map of the mountains framed upon a dilapidated wooden sign. Sam stood there, eyeing the old sign up and down like she had never seen it before – which was not true, considering how many times she had come to the Washington Lodge in the past. She hadn't noticed it before, but as she squinted her eyes and really looked at the sign, Gracie realized there was something red splattered across the cracked glass and crinkled poster; something that had definitely never been there before. Sam was staring at it with a worried scowl and Gracie's curiosity got the best of her.

A sudden breeze hit her exposed skin and ate its way through the soft fabric and warm fur of her parka, causing her body to erupt in shivers. The cold was suddenly not quite as welcoming or inviting as it had previously been, and she pulled the thick fabric tighter around her small frame as she made her way over to her friend with haste. She gasped at what she saw.

The dark red spray paint was slopped hastily across the old sign, but Gracie could read every dark word as clearly as she could see Sam.

 _ **The past is beyond our control**_

"Graffiti? All the way up here?" Sam tried playing it off as a joke, but her choice of words only seemed to make the entire situation just _that_ more odd. The poorly written words that had already begun to chip from the bitter cold of the mountain set off many warning bells within her skull. They rang inside Gracie's head and all of her worry and fear of coming back began to flood her senses. Then, she felt anger. White hot anger coursed through her very core and her previously shocked gaze hardened into stone.

Some inconsiderate jerk was making a mockery of their loss; _taunting_ the great pain they all felt.

"Who would do this?" she questioned the wind. The question spiraled away along with the breeze, forever doomed to go unanswered. Sam began to worry for the future of the seemingly cursed weekend get-together. They had arrived mere minutes ago and already so much seemed to be going wrong. It was a crazy thought, but it almost seemed like the universe was trying to warn them of something...

Maybe that was the sign they should have been reading.

Just then, something began vibrating loudly back towards the station. The girls turned and saw the light of a ringing phone flashing from an open pocket in Chris's bag. "Let's go check it out," Sam suggested. With a shallow nod and a passing glare at the terribly haunting skewed words, Gracie begrudgingly forced her feet to follow Sam back to the outcrop of the station.

The phone was dangling out of a side pocket and the girls could clearly see Ashley's name on the caller ID. Sam and Gracie passed a knowing look to each other, then rolled their eyes almost in unison. Chris and Ashley had been crushing on each other ever since Chris spilled his carton of milk on Ashley's homework in the seventh grade. Ashley was angry with Chris because of her ruined hard work, Chris was angry with Ashley because he had to sit out lunch break to help her re-do the assignment, and yet the day had ended with laughter and a new friend to add to the list of nine. The two had been nearly inseparable since then.

Gracie wondered as to why her red-haired friend would be texting Chris, considering they all would be meeting up later tonight anyhow. Sam must have caught sight of the famous mischievous smirk of her dear brunette friend because her hand darted out and zipped up the bag tight. With playful glare directed towards Gracie, Sam said, "maybe we shouldn't go snooping through Chris's stuff."

Gracie rolled her eyes but sighed nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I just wish they'd get hitched already and be done with it, you know?"

"Don't we all," Sam laughed. Then, she gave the clearing another once-over, looking for a head of dirty blond hair among the gorgeous scenery. She didn't see anything besides trees, trees, snow, and more trees. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted out loudly, " _Christopher_!"

"You rang?"

Sam and Gracie both jumped at the sudden voice. The familiar impish face of their missing Jester of the Squirrels appeared out from around the corner of the shack with a large smile spread out across his face and obnoxious laughter that filled the air. " _Get it?"_ he asked through his laughter as his blue eyes sparkled from behind his thick-lens glasses. "What?" he questioned when the girls didn't answer. "You know- Lurch? From the Addam's Family? Come on guys, it's common knowledge!"

"Chris, you scared us!" Sam shouted and shoved him with a scowl. He only laughed harder at his friend's reaction. Gracie, despite the small heart attack, was laughing as well.

"Okay," she breathed and waved a finger at Chris."I'll admit it. That was clever." Chris's laughter was cut short. He gawked at the brunette from over Sam's shoulder with wide, startled eyes. All of the mischief had drained from his very being along with every word in his vocabulary, leaving him with a gaping mouth and a deer-in-headlights expression. The left corner of Gracie's lip tugged upward into a smirk. "Why, _Christopher Hartley!_ Don't tell me you've forgotten about little ol' me already!" She put a delicate hand to her chest, feigning distress.

Her soft, almost cocky tone of voice was all too familiar to Chris. The nostalgic words she uttered had his sudden intrusive paralysis melting away instantly and with one great burst of baffled shock, the blonde man shouted, " _Gracie_!"

" _Christie_!" Gracie mock-yelled, imitating his surprise while throwing her arms out for a hug. The sound of his old nickname set off a live wire inside him, and within mere seconds Gracie was engulfed within a bone-crushing bear hug. Words were flowing from Chris's lips, but Gracie couldn't hear a word of it on account of the stuffy arms of his winter jacket covering her ears. She laughed all the same and hugged him back with just as much intensity. It felt so nice to hug and be hugged by him again; so familiar and comforting.

That was, until, the warm blue fabric of his coat began to suffocate her. "Uh, Cochise?" she mumbled through mouthfuls of fabric as she somehow managed to tap the back of his shoulder. "Chris, I can't breathe, dummy!" Chris slid his arms from around her back and firmly sat his large hands on the smaller girl's shoulders. He pushed her back until she was standing arms-length away from himself, which jostled her a bit with his fast-moving pace. He looked her over with an air-deprived chuckle of awe.

" _Wow_ ," he breathed out, sounding as though all of the air had been sucked clean out of him. "Look at you! You've changed so much." His eyes scanned her up and down in pure bafflement. "Damn, you sure do look different."

"Gee, thanks," Gracie gave a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

He quickly clarified with a chuckle, "not in that way. I mean- _god!_ You look great! How long's it been? A year- year and a half?"

"Uh, two, actually," she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling nervous and somewhat embarrassed.

Chris flashed a comforting smile and gave her shoulders a small squeeze. "Hey, any year is one year too long for me!"Gracie let out a short laugh and nodded her head in agreement. As quickly and easily as she had agreed, tears began forming in the corners of her dark eyes. Confirming that, yes, any year away from him – from all of them – was indeed too long of a period, gave way to a sudden tidal wave of emotions and she felt her chest tighten painfully.

Chris saw the way her eyes glossed over and he let out a playful " _aw,_ come here, little sis." Gracie's eyes itched with the unwanted tears that tried to fall. She efficiently hid them by burying her face within the blue of Chris's parka as she dived back in for another hug, which he happily accepted and greeted with his own.

"And what am I- chopped liver?"

Chris made a fake pouting face around Gracie's head as he held out a hand for Sam to join. "hey now, Sammy, don't be that way!"

Gracie had managed to blink away a majority of her tears and gave her own playful smile as she peeked out at Sam. Then she, too, held out one of her hands. "Now you've got to join us," she cooed playfully with a small sniff.

"Come on. Bring it in, Samster." Sam glared at Chris's use of her old childhood nickname, but she couldn't keep the hard look on her face for more than a few seconds. Her features melted into a happy smile – a smile Gracie hadn't seen in too long – and she gave a mock-sigh of exhaustion as she gave in to the beckoning of her two goofballs. "You two are ridiculous."

Christ easily held the two girls close to him, one arm around each of their shoulders firmly like a brother holding his sisters after months of being apart. "It's about time you two showed up," he prodded lightly after a few moments of well-needed silence had passed.

" _Us_?" Sam scrutinized and scrunched up her nose. "We've been here for a solid five minutes."

"Yeah," Gracie joined, "where've _you_ been off to?"

Chris's face suddenly brightened and he jumped back like a kid waking on Christmas morning. "Oh, that reminds me! You've gotta come check this out! I found something _kind of_ amazing." The two girls passed a cautious look.

Sam dared to ask, "what is it?"

Chris shook his head, a goofy smile playing on his excited face. "I'm not gonna tell you, you gotta come see it for yourself. Come one, it's this way." Chris disappeared around the corner of the cable car station for a few moments, then his head popped back around when he realized they weren't following. "It's just right around here, you big babies. It's gonna blow your mind," he gestured with his hands an invisible explosion around his head. The girls chuckled at the goofy blonde, but followed him nonetheless.

The two trailed Chris along the side of the ski lodge, their path lit only by a single dull light bulb that flickered on and off. Gracie hadn't been back behind here too many times, but she knew it well enough. She knew that there was a shooting range off behind the station, which was possibly where Chris was taking them. Other than that there wasn't really anything too terribly interesting aside from an extra room on the side of the station. It really led to nothing more than a multitude of confusing electrical boxes and outlets and other stuff that Gracie had never paid any mind to.

Gracie knew this area better than she knew herself. When her eyes flickered over the familiar metal door leading into the electric room, she knew instantly that something was off.

It was a sign. There were many signs stuck to the door from centuries past, but this sign almost seemed newer; less rotted and chipped than any of the other informational or warning signs that littered the surface of the door. On top of the sign and written in big, bold letters was a single word that was so much more different than any of its fellow red warning signs, and yet the blue word contrasted with its surroundings like a beacon in the night. It made her stomach curl more than any of the other signs ever had.

 _ **Wanted**_

Gracie changed course and made a B-line for the sign. Sam followed out of curiosity, but she soon grew just as shocked as her friend when she, too, caught sight of the sign. Gracie scanned over the little words quickly, then re-read them over again. It read about a fugitive last spotted on Blackwood Mountain. The man was wanted for attempt of arson and multiple death threats. Gracie's brow scrunched as she read it over again for a third time, waves of confusion coursing through her.

The wanted poster was dated back to 1998. That didn't make any sense to the brunette. Why had someone put up a poster with outdated information if they were truly looking for this man? And if they had put it up some odd years ago, then why was she only seeing this now?

 _'No, it's definitely within two years old,'_ she concluded. If it had been put up in 1998, which would be the only thing that could even attempt to make sense to her, then the sign would be much older and more tattered than what it currently was. And yet, _it wasn't._

"Creepy," Sam mumbled as Chris peered over the girl's shoulder at the poster.

"Nice! Think we'll get a visit from America's Most Wanted?" he joked.

"Looks like someone thought so," Sam jested back lightly, albeit with a hint of passing worry.

Chris rolled his eyes at her tone of voice and prodded, "oh come on! This place is abandoned most of the year. _Nobody_ comes up here." Sam quietly agreed with Chris, but she still found the sign very odd. Even so, she was able to easily shake off the words and the strange feelings of dread it gave her. Sam never was one to dwell on things for long; Chris never really dwelled on things.

Gracie did, however. She couldn't help it; she had always over analyzed even the simplest of things ever since she was a kid. When something had entered her mind, it settled, and she would be doomed to overthink it until she got the answers she knew were there. Some may label this a good quality to possess, and it may have been for some people, but it only ever brought Gracie trouble and grief.

She couldn't keep her mind from over flooding with questions - especially about the eerie wanted sign - but one question that spoke louder than the other voices made her want to turn tail and run away from Blackwood Mountains for good.

 _'Was it really such a good idea to come back?'_

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 ** _A/N: So, did you like it? If so, please follow and favorite! Have any comments or notes? Leave me a little love note! Feedback keeps me going ;*_**


	2. Chapter 2

"Tada!" Chris jazz-handed as he introduced the "mind-blowing" shooting range located behind the Washington Ski Lodge. His face beamed as he eagerly awaited the reaction of the girls, and he got exactly what he expected from the two. Sam's nose scrunched in disinterest while Gracie's face broke into a beaming, toothy grin of delight. His own smile widened even more so when he saw Gracie's eyes sparkle a dull glow; a glow he hadn't seen in so long. It wasn't only from not seeing her in two years. There had been a time where that glow was always there; a time where she was still his innocent little Gracie.

That had changed, though, and it did so at a very young age for her. She was too young when her light had gotten snuffed out. On some levels that was a good thing. Because she was so young, there were times she could forget what happened long enough to allow the light to sizzle back to life. However, those moments had been short-lived, and with all that had recently happened, he didn't know if he'd ever see her light blaze back to life. Seeing her now lit his own flare of hope. ' _This time will be different,'_ he told himself, every bit as determined as Christopher Hartley could be. _'This time I'll keep the light in her eyes; where it belongs.'_

He eagerly egged on the two girls as he gushed, "pretty rad, right?" He put his hands on his hips and a look of admiration and pride passed over his face as though he had made the shooting range himself. It made Gracie happy to see him like that. She was smiling, too – beaming even - but it was more so aimed at Chris than the actual sight itself. She couldn't get over the fact how natural this meeting was turning out and how happy Sam and Chris seemed to be. They had all just settled back into place and took off exactly where they left off; like nothing bad had ever happened.

She wanted to remember this day, including all others before it. She wanted to etch every happy little thing into her brain so that, if she were to never see him again, she would still remember. She wanted to remember each and every one of her friends; she wanted to be able to look back from years into the future and remember every detail of their features and all of the wonderful times they had shared together. She wanted this to be the weekend she looked back on most fondly if this ended up being their last weekend spent together. With the way things were headed back at home, this very well might be the case.

This would be the last summer free for the group for a good long while. After this summer, the nine friends would either be off to college somewhere or leaving to work some job or just spending their new life learning how to grow into a successful adult. The sad truth of it is, they wouldn't have time for each other anymore, and the new intrusion of responsibility would without a doubt drive an even thicker wedge between them.

After this summer, they would be nothing but strangers with a trailing shadow full of memories of what was; a shadow that would eventually dim. Gracie wanted her shadow to stay strong for years to come, which is why she so desperately needed this weekend to go well. In the back of her mind, she knew how silly this truly was. Shadows were only as strong as their caster, and the caster is as strong as their memories; it was a never-ending cycle that would eventually lead to the destruction of its own creation.

"Yeah, " Sam uncertainly drawled out. She was failing to see just what was so "mind-blowing" about the overgrown clearing filled with random debris, and her face did little to hide it.

Chris, pretending to be offended, gaped in mock-horror. _"Come on!_ Look at these beauties," he gestured to the snowy area stretched out before him. The clearing was littered with large barrels, empty bottles, scattered cans, and poorly painted targets on the bellies of sacks full of decade-old bird seed, The sacks dangled from particular, scraggly tree branches that were carefully chosen by Bob Washington. _"The place is just as important as the shot,_ " he would say.

"Um, "beauties" is not the word that comes to mind," Sam responded as she gave the place a scrutinizing once-over. "What even is this?"

"It's the Washington Shooting Range, smarty!" Gracie joked while giving Sam a playful nudge with her hip. "Haven't you ever been back here?" Sam threw a glare at the brunette who, in turn, stuck her tongue out as she bounced her way up towards a little wooden table.

What parts of the old, memorable table that had not been covered by the fluffy snow was littered with broken holes and splinters; traces long left behind of either carpenter bees or termites or just someone not being careful. Her fingers delicately danced over the damaged wood, each flaw adding to the growing pile of distant memories. Her fingers glazed through the snow until they touched metal. Her fingers delicately grazed along the frozen object, brushing off snow as they reviled slowly a gun. Gracie's pink lips fell from her previous playful smirk and instead formed a softer smile; a smile that held a thousand and one fond memories that only she seemed to remember.

She lifted the weapon as delicately as one might pick up a small child. Her bare hands failed to feel the biting cold of the metal as the familiar weight of the shotgun within her palms sent a wave of relaxation pulsing through her. She did a quick examination of the weapon; there were a few old bumps in the wood and a nick or two in the metal, but nothing major or harmful. Surprisingly, there didn't seem to be any rust, either. She pressed a small button on the side and out popped the magazine. There were twelve shells. Whoever had previously used this gun had enough courtesy to fully reload it. She faintly wondered why a loaded gun would be left outside, but she shrugged it off easily. She wouldn't put it past the Washington's to overlook a single missing weapon every now-and-then. After slipping the magazine back in place, Gracie began giving the gun another safety once-over while Chris and Sam both crowded around her.

"Why is this here?" Gracie could practically hear Sam's furrowed brow.

Chris cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"What the hell is a shooting range doing at the base of a ski lodge? And why is there a loaded gun?"

He rolled his baby blue eyes at her. "Dude, have you ever met Josh's dad?"

"Yeah," Sam said, her tone almost snarky with its response.

"He thinks he's like, Grizzly Adams or something!" Gracie laughed along with Chris at the truth behind the joke.

Bob Washington had been quite the outdoorsy man at one time. That was part of the reason Allan Lowe had gotten along so well with him in the first place. Both men were no-nonsense men who would rather be lost in the forest somewhere than the bustling city. Although, in recent years, neither of the two had gone out to do much of anything such as hunting or fishing or something of the sort in a while – not with each other or with anyone else. Those sort of things seemed so distant now.

"Hey," Chris suddenly snatched the gun out of Gracie's hands, startling her back to reality with a mischievous smirk stretched out on his thin lips. "How's about a friendly contest for old time's sake?"

Gracie's shock was quickly covered as she arched her brow and challenged, "loser's pack mule?"

Chris laughed and ruffled her already disheveled hair. "You're on!" Gracie scowled and swatted his hands away from her messy braid. As she tried to brush back what strands of hair she could, Chris gripped the metal slide, pulled it back, then let it go as it pushed a bullet into the chamber. Then, he took aim.

After a few moments of still silence, the loud and sudden ' _bang!'_ of the gun echoed through the clearing and the bullet went sailing through the air. One of the hung sacks from a tree jumped – the bullet had hit a mere two inches from the center of the crudely painted target. Chris shot again and blew out the side of a can. His third shot knocked off the top off a glass bottle. Gracie whistled, "not bad," and gave a praising nod.

"Nice shootin', Tex," Sam said and nudged him lightly.

Chris, obviously enjoying the praises he had received, began a goofy little dance and sung, "alright, I'm bad! I'm a badass!" Sam chuckled and Gracie rolled her eyes.

"Alright, alright, settle down there, Cochise, or you'll hurt yourself again," Gracie chided as she laid a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop the ridiculous dancing.

Chris merely scoffed. "Whatever. You're just jealous of my mad skill."

She rolled her shoulders in an indifferent shrug. "Alright, I'll admit it, you always were a pretty good shot."

It wasn't a lie; Chris actually was a good shot. She could still remember the day when Chris began learning how to shoot. It was one of those few weekends when Bob Washington had some time off from work. Since it wasn't yet season for hunting and they had failed to catch anything from the pond earlier that morning, he had decided to get in some target practice with his kids. Gracie and Chris had been staying over that weekend.

Hannah and Beth weren't interested in neither fishing nor shooting while Gracie and Chris didn't like the idea of staying cooped up inside all day. So, they tagged along with Josh and his father to the shooting range. Gracie had already known how to shoot on account of her own father and Josh had been shooting ever since he was old enough to walk, so when Chris had nervously asked for Bob to teach him how to shoot the older man very nearly adopted the young twelve-year-old right then and there.

Bob loved his kids to the end of the world and back and they loved him the same; the only problem was the fact that his girls never liked the loud boom or kick of a gun nor did they enjoy the slimy fish that jumped and startled them and made them smell bad. Josh was already quite the little sharpshooter and could out shoot both Chris and Gracie on a bad day, and he never could resist a nice relaxing day by the creek with a pole in his hand and a line in the water.

The only issue with Josh was the fact that he wasn't all too eager to sit alone in the quiet. He never liked to be left alone for long and he absolutely despised when things grew silent, so he hardly ever went out hunting and he had to have at least two other people present when fishing. Although, if Gracie was with him, it was somehow more bearable. Josh never turned down the chance to spend time with her; even if it meant sitting in silence underneath some rickety tree on some too early October morning.

One thing Bob loved to do was to show off – or, " _teach"_ \- his skills. Whether that be to an aspiring young actor's first day on the job or to little kids who were interested in the outdoors, he would be sure to do it and do it well. For the rest of that summer, Chris insisted on going to the shooting range with Josh and Gracie and an overly enthusiastic Bob as often as he could. He got pretty good after a while.

Gracie's eyes flashed and her smile turned into a flaring smirk. "But I'm still a better shot than you, Christie Pie."

Chris's eyes flashed much like her own had. Setting the butt of the gun on his hip, he gave her an almost sassy look as he taunted, "I don't know, Deadeye Darlin', times have changed. Are you sure you're still up to my level of awesomeness?"

"Deadeye Darling?" Sam cut into the playful standoff with a confused look.

"That used to be my nickname for her," Chris answered simply. "But, I don't know. I might have to revoke her rights to it after I smoke her in this challenge. And you're not saying it right, Sam - it's " _darlin_ '," not " _darling_ ". You have to add the accent or it loses its point."

"What point?"

"It doesn't matter," Gracie quickly cut off Chris before he could open his wide mouth, successfully halting his longer-than-needed explanation of western talk as she took the gun back from him. "What matters is that I can out-shoot you any day."

She took her position on the table, leaning over it slightly as her elbows propped herself and the gun up. Chris took a step back, his arms crossing as he smiled smugly at his dear friend.

The butt of the gun fit almost perfectly against her shoulder, like a puzzle piece. Her hands naturally slid into place just as they had a hundred times over while her doe eyes quickly locked in on her first target to fire at. She took aim, carefully lining up the little iron sight in the center of a lone can sitting in the snow.

She took a deep breath in, letting her mind block out the world around her as time seemed to stand still. She steadied her hands as her heart calmly thundered within her ears rhythmically as a slow, _pump, pump, pump_ ing throb. As she ever so slowly exhaled through her nose, she knew she was once again enthralled within her element. For the first time since losing Hannah and Beth, she truly felt as though she was where she belonged.

Her finger squeezed.

The light kick against her shoulder was as refreshing as a desert oasis. The soft little _'ping!'_ of the bullet's travel directly through the center of the can made her happier than she had been in a long time. Within seconds another can was sent crumpling inward from the impact of the little ball of lead, closely followed by a sack and a glass bottle. A victory smile pulled at her lips as she airily whispered, " _bullseye!_ "

"Not bad," Chris laid a hand on her shoulder. "Not _great._ But not bad."

Gracie turned and scrunched her brow. "What do you mean? Four targets, four bullseyes – that's better then what _you_ pulled off!"

"Anybody and their baby brother could hit a can that big that close. But whatever- you're clearly the winner, Deadeye Darlin'. I can't argue with that." Chris ruffled her hair again, making her glare and swat at his shoulder once more.

One of Gracie's quarks was the almost obsessive need to prove herself; this including her never backing down from a challenge. Admittedly, it may have gotten her into more trouble than what it was worth. Between her and Chris it was just another way for him to push her buttons, and he used it to his advantage. He always pulled out this card when he was dealt the losing hand, and it was this playing card that usually caused her previously winning hand to lose.

She glared up at the targets before her, her eyes scanning all of the different sized objects until they landed on a lone hanging sack. It wasn't as full as the other sacks, which made it smaller, and it hung on a branch further back into the forest than the rest as well.

"Throw in Sam's bag if I can hit that one," she nodded to the lone sack. "Looser hauls all."

"What about my bag?"

"You're on, Deadeye Darlin'!"

Gracie settled herself against the table as her arms and hands re-positioned themselves back into place along the shotgun. She took aim, carefully hovering the iron sight over the tiny sack. She breathed in slowly she steadied her breathing into a dull wisp of breath.

Chris suddenly grabbed her shoulder and gave her a short shake. He yelled " _boo_!" and laughed obnoxiously, but she had expected this much from him. That trick may have worked when she was a kid and it had unfortunately cost her many good winnings, so she quickly learned to expect some sort of foul trickery from him. It didn't take long for the trick to grow old; after all, it always was easy for her to grow numb to things. Sam knocked Chris lightly on the shoulder and she scolded him as he simply laughed. After her own quick glare at the blonde male, Gracie took aim again.

Her shaky hands had just begun to settle when she saw a flicker out in the corner of her eye. Out of instinct, her body froze and her dark eyes darted towards the movement. It was a squirrel; one that hardly looked old enough to be out on its own yet. The little red furred animal had marched its way into the clearing and perched itself right on top of a barrel; this act of bravery proving just how young the squirrel must have been for it to wander anywhere near humans – especially with the loud shots of the gun going off.

Gracie quickly realized the little critter as being the same squirrel that had eaten some trail mix out of Sam's hand earlier, when she and Gracie were first headed up to the ski lodge. _'This must be the first time it's seen humans before,'_ Gracie smartly concluded. _'Or, at least, it hasn't been around humans long enough to know that it should fear them.'_

Then, Gracie got a marvelous idea. Why settle for a simple small, far-off target when she could shoot a small, _moving_ one? Odds are Chris would try and continue their friendly challenge even after this shot; the only way to put him in his place would be either shooting the squirrel or bouncing the bullet off the side of the cable car station and _then_ hitting the sack.

Gracie was good, but she wasn't _that_ good.

Besides, she hadn't had the chance to hunt for nearly three years. This way she could do two of her favorite things; putting Christopher Hartley in his place and sniping off a little rodent. It was like shooting two birds with one bullet!

 _'But, how would Sam feel about it?'_ The thought of the blonde female made Gracie hesitate. Sam knew that a good majority of her friends enjoyed hunting – hell, in this little town nearly all of your friends would be hunters – and she was willing to look past that. Or at least ignore it. It was bad enough if anyone talked about killing animals around her, and Gracie could make a pretty good guess as to how she would react seeing it firsthand.

Sam could get over it, though. Could Gracie get over losing the very first challenge she'd had between her and Chris in years?

The fluffy red tail of the creature twitched happily as the squirrel picked up some fallen nuts and began nibbling on them. Gracie turned her sights to the animal.

Suddenly, a coldness washed over her. It wasn't the usual cold from the snowy winds or even the aching she felt in her fingers as she gripped the freezing metal gun. The cold was thicker almost – it was _darker_. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her body went rigid. It suddenly felt very wrong to shoot this squirrel. It suddenly felt wrong to shoot _anything_ in these woods, for that matter. Come to think of it, had she ever shot an animal out here?

Now that she thought about it, she had never actually hunted the Blackwood Mountains before. Neither had Bob, Josh, or her dad to her knowledge. They hadn't even fished here before; they had only ever gone camping. The place was certainly filled with enough animals and there were no legal problems she could recall that kept them from hunting the place. And yet, in that moment, she realized that no one ever had.

 _'But why?'_

Her finger grazed over the trigger, making little twitches every now and then, ready to squeeze when ready. She wanted to shoot the squirrel. She so desperately wanted to prove to Chris that she was still capable of doing it; that she still deserved the nickname Deadeye Darlin'. She just couldn't help but feel as though there was something wrong with the situation; that it was somehow _bad_ to shoot the vermin. Or maybe something bad _could_ happen if she shot it.

That was a stupid thought. She had shot plenty of squirrels in her lifetime and nothing bad had come of it. She tried to convince herself of this again, and yet the dark feeling never left her and her question still lingered. Out of Bob, Allan, Josh, and Gracie, why had no one ever killed anything from Blackwood Mountains?

The little squirrel's body went rigged for a second, and suddenly its beady oil-drop eyes were on her. The tiny, little creature was suddenly struck dumb and paralyzed; completely overcome by its own complete and utter terror. Seconds passed like hours in that moment, and the dark coldness enveloped Gracie like a suffocating rag around her face. The body of the squirrel was frozen like stone, and yet its mind raced a mile a second and its heart beat faster. Gracie's mind had gone completely blank, and yet her body began to move on its own accord.

Without breathing, without waiting, without taking a second passing thought, her finger clenched around the trigger. The shot rang out louder than any of the other shots Gracie had fired and her ears rung; the hard kicking of the butt seemed to shoot its own killing lead into her shoulder.

The little ball of destruction went soaring through open, freezing air and struck its target; the very center of the furthest hanging sack.

The little squirrel gave a frightened squeak and lunged from the barrel. It scurried off into the woods as soon as its tiny paws touched the floor and it ran with its furrowed tail held high. It launched itself up the nearest tree and climbed so high so quickly that the three humans had lost sight of it almost instantly, but it made itself well known by barking its dissatisfaction loud and clear.

As soon as she had pulled the trigger, the strange, weighing cold had lifted from her and she felt she could finally breathe. As Sam and Chris – Chris albeit a bit begrudgingly since he had lost the bet - congratulated her with clasp on the back and "nice shot!", her mind lingered. What was that dark feeling that had engulfed her? Was it the reason no one else had ever hunted here before?

Gracie quickly gave Chris a cocky smile and happily thanked Sam before they could notice her discomfort. Whether or not they themselves had noticed, Gracie wasn't sure, but making a scene about it was the last thing she wanted to do. She wouldn't let herself ruin this special weekend. In that moment, Sam caught sight of the cable car nearing the station and the three turned their attention to that. As Chris and Sam began making their way back to the front of the station, Gracie couldn't help but to hesitate. Her eyes scanned the trees as she laid the shotgun back in its place on the table. She could still hear the high-pitched barks of the angry squirrel, but she had a good feeling that she'd never see that little guy again.

She couldn't decide how she felt about what had happened. Did everyone who tried to kill an animal on this mountain feel that strange coldness?

Or, was she not as fixed as she thought she was?

That last thought caused her to scowl.

 _'Nothing strange happened. Nothing at all.'_ She was fine. Completely and utterly fine. The only reason she had reacted that way was that it wasn't squirrel season and she had felt bad for the thing. _Of course_ someone had killed an animal from Blackwood Mountains; it's an entire range of mountains, for God's sake! She had simply psyched herself out, is all.

Everything was fine. Nothing had changed; she's still going to have a fun weekend with her best friends; she is still going to make her final week with them the best as possible.

 _'I'm still fixed.'_

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 ** _A/N: What do you think of the story so far? Do_** _ **you like it? Dyou hate it? Have any comments? I'd love to hear them! Please follow, favorite, and review to show me and this story some love :)**_


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